


the certainty of separation

by Majure



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Imma be real with you chief this isnt happy, M/M, drug mention, the klave is not explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:08:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22456240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Majure/pseuds/Majure
Summary: Klaus is twenty-two when he meets a ghost.
Relationships: Dave/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 23
Kudos: 91





	the certainty of separation

**Author's Note:**

> Edit Jan. 30: changed the title because I realized it was a misquote whoops

The air outside is bitingly cold compared to the stifled interior of the club Klaus had just stumbled out of. His lungs sting at their first taste of fresh air in what must've been hours. The sun had been setting when Klaus and his company for the night had gone inside; it's dark now, the sky a pale grey, like it's threatening rain. 

Coughing, Klaus stumbles down the stoop of the side exit, shoes splashing in the puddles gathered by the gutter. The hinges of the door squeal and shudder as it swings shut behind him. Klaus closes his eyes, resting his head against the brick wall of the alleyway. It's freezing against his skin, but Klaus doesn't know if it's really cold, or he's just fever hot and jittery. 

He slides down the wall, careless of the damp gravel beneath him. As much as he loves clubs, really, he had needed a break. The push and pull of bodies had been like sandpaper on his already frayed nerves. Drugs. He needed drugs. The chilly night air had only further cleared his head, and now his skin is itching, his brain begging to have the numbness back. 

In a moment, though. He's still trying to catch his breath. 

"Klaus?" 

Klaus smiles. His friend, probably, wondering where he'd gone to. Not that Klaus particularly cares; he's not attached to the guy. 

The voice says again, softly, "Can you hear me?" 

"'Course I can hear you, babe," Klaus says. He opens his eyes lifting his head - and then jumps. It's not his friend. Klaus stares at the figure, blinking. 

Muddy boots, broad shoulders. He's backlit by a halo of red neon light coming from the club's sign just around the corner, but it's not so dark that Klaus can't make out a strong jaw and a pair of blue eyes. Handsome - the kind of guy Klaus would easily go for. Forget his friend; Klaus wants to get to know _this_ guy. 

Klaus manages a smirk, the beginnings of _Hey, Mister_ , on his tongue when his eyes flick downwards, catching a stain on the guy's shirt. Not just a stain, but a tear in the fabric, a ragged wound on his chest, and not the kind that's survivable. 

The words die in Klaus' mouth. He grimaces freely, looking away and trying to get his emotions under control. He pulls his knees up to his chest. Why the hell do they always manage to find him so fast? He'd only been sober for a few minutes, maybe an hour. It's not fucking _fair_.

Feeling in his pocket for the baggie of drugs he'd bought a few days ago, Klaus pops a pill in defiance of the ghost's stupid, pitying face. It'll take a moment for the drugs to kick in, at which point Klaus can escape back into the club and away from this dead sad-sack, but in the meantime, he buries his face against his knees and hopes that the ghost won't start screaming at him like all the rest. 

He doesn't leave. Doesn't yell, either. He just stands there and watches, seeming regretful and oddly hesitant. Klaus won't look at his face again, but in the corner of his eye, he can see the ghost flexing his fingers. 

It's freezing outside. Klaus had ditched his coat inside the club, but he doesn't feel up for moving to get up and go inside, so he just hunches his shoulders and buries his nose in the crook of he elbow. The ghost stands there, frozen. There's an odd expression on his face that Klaus can't figure out, and doesn't want to look close enough to find out what it is. His eyes dart to and from his face a couple times before Klaus mutters, "If you're looking for sympathy, you came to the wrong place." 

The ghost blinks. It takes him a moment to answer. His voice sounds somewhat strangled as he rasps, "I'm not." 

Klaus glances at him. "Then why are you here." 

"I'm honestly asking myself the same thing." Slowly, he lowers himself to the ground and sits, legs crossed and elbows on his knees. He doesn't seem to want to meet Klaus' eyes either, so he stares at Klaus' shoes. 

Klaus snorts, scrubbing his cheek with the heel of one hand. "Funny one, huh? You know I don't care about your problems."

"I know." The ghost sounds near to tears. His eyes flick up to Klaus' face and back down, lower lip trembling. He doesn't say anything else. The toe of his boot shifts across the wet gravel in the alleyway. Klaus looks at it instead of him. The ghost's eyes are raw, too... knowing. 

But at least he's civil. Chewing on the inside of his mouth, Klaus asks, "What's your name?'

"I thought you didn't care about my problems?" 

"I don't," Klaus says. "But if you're going to sit there, you might as well talk." 

"I don't know if I should tell you," the ghost says, though Klaus can't fathom _why_.

"Fine," he snaps, crossing his arms. "Fuck me for trying to be polite." 

The ghost doesn't flinch. He barely even moves as Klaus straightens out his legs, foot clipping through the ghost's thigh. His arms wrap around his knees, one forefinger tapping against the shin of his muddied fatigues. He still won't look at Klaus. "Cats," he says. 

"Huh?" 

"My last name," the ghost clarifies. He finally glances up. "They called me Cats." 

_Katz_ not _Cats_ Klaus' brain supplies. "Oh," Klaus says. He gestures at the dog tags around Katz's neck. "You in the army, or something?" 

"Yeah," Katz says, voice choked. His blue eyes glaze over and he stares off into the middle distance, remembering something. Tears gather in the corners of his eyes. For a moment, Klaus thinks he's going to go crazy like the rest of the ghosts. Instead, he grabs a hold of the front of his shirt over the hole in his chest. "A lifetime ago." 

Pulling his shirt tighter around his shoulders and trying not to shiver, Klaus says, "Why'd you stick around so long?" 

"Just waiting," Katz says. 

Klaus frowns. "For what?" 

Katz looks up at him again. This time, he doesn't look away. Klaus sucks in a breath; he looks like he can see right inside Klaus' head, staring at every dirty detail of Four Hargreeves' life. His eyes are raw. Haunted. "For someone," he rasps. 

"Oh." Klaus breathes a sigh of relief when Katz looks back down. He shivers. "Maybe I could-" 

"No," Katz says, voice cracking, voice taking a turn towards sobbing. "No, you can't do that." 

"Okay!" Klaus lifts his hands, eyes wide. "Man, you were on a hot streak. Please don't start screaming at me." 

Katz hunches his shoulders, burying his head for a moment while he cries. After a moment, he takes a breath and the sobbing stops, but his hands still shake. Lifting his head, he scrubs his eyes. "My mom always told me that yelling never gets you anywhere," he says, and Klaus huffs a quiet laugh. "I might be dead, but I have manners." 

Klaus smiles a little, wary of another outburst. "If only they were all like you." 

Katz turns to look at him. For the first time, Klaus makes himself hold Katz’s watery blue eyes. Fresh tears well up in his eyes, slipping down his cheeks. Klaus feels himself lean forward. His hand curls into the fabric of his shirt. "Why do I feel like you know me?" Klaus whispers. Katz doesn't say anything, but he does go still. "I feel like you know things about me I've never told anyone else." 

They stare at each other a moment longer. Katz caves first, looking away. He breathes out a shuddering sigh. "I'm sorry," he says, staggering to his feet in his haste to get away from Klaus. Klaus has never seen a ghost so eager to get _away_ from him. "This was a mistake." 

"Heard that before," Klaus says, confused. Overhead, the clouds start to break. Thin, freezing raindrops start to drip from the sky and it isn't long before Klaus is soaked and shaking. 

Katz is stumbling away from him, shoulders hunched. "Hey," Klaus calls to his back. He doesn't turn to look at him, but he does stop, shoulders quaking. "See you around, or something?" 

Before he can answer, the club's side door slams open. "Hey!" Klaus' friend calls, squinting out into the rain. His breath billows in the freezing air. "There you are! Why are you sitting on the ground? Come inside; you'll freeze." 

Klaus blinks. He looks back to where Katz had been, but there's no one there now. As Klaus takes a breath, his limbs loosen up. The itch in the back of his mind is gone - the pills have kicked in. He starts to laugh and lifts his hands in invitation. "I don't know!" he calls. "Help me up." 

His friend's hands are warm, his breath even warmer as it ghosts over Klaus' skin. As he's ushered back inside, out of the freezing rain, Klaus can't stop laughing. There are no more ghosts. There won't be for a while, yet. 

It doesn't take long before he stops thinking about Katz entirely.

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this mostly written for a couple months, so i decided to bust it out really quick. thanks for reading! Come talk to me on tumblr @fanthings


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